


In the Wake

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Purgatory, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:40:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4430429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being topside is a struggle for them both. At least Dean and Benny still have each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon prompt on tumblr, requesting Denny+first time post-purgatory.

The world is brighter (harsher?) than Benny remembers. Even in the dim morning light, everything is sharp and vibrantly colored, driving him to seek the refuge of dark glasses. A myriad of scents and sounds that didn’t exist in purgatory assault hit senses. 

He’d close his eyes if he thought it would help; instead, he focuses on the drumming of water in the shower, the hammer of a familiar heartbeat in the next room. Dean’s humming under his breath, a song too new for Benny to know, but one he recognizes from Purgatory. Dean is a comfort, even if he’s one that Benny shouldn’t be allowing himself. 

“That’s a pretty sour look for a man who just got done doin’ time,” Dean drawls from the doorway of the bathroom. 

Benny shakes his head. He’d lost himself in thought, hadn’t even heard the shower turn off. Sloppy. 

“Lot a noise out here, lot more than there is down there.” 

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” Dean’s eyes skitter sideways, a haunted look shuttering them for a brief moment. Benny can see the moment he shoves it down. 

 _Repress and deny. The Winchester Motto._  Old words ring in his head, but even the memory of Dean’s voice is muted in his mind. 

“But if everything’s clearer, more intense, d’you suppose some things could be … better?” 

Dean’s meaning is transparent, and Benny can’t help but chuckle at the dirty leer on his friend’s face. 

“Sure could find out, couldn’t we.” 

Long lashes are clumped together with shower water, darker with the wetness and framing Dean’s green eyes. He looks more than human,  _ethereal_  Benny thinks is the word. Those eyes darken in lust and hunger as he drops the towel from around his waist, approaching Benny with all the casual grace of a predator. Some part of him always urges him to run, that this is a hunter and  _danger_ but he knows that’s just Dean. And maybe that’s part of the thrill. 

Strong hands drag him up from his chair, pressing him against the wall. Teeth bite amid the press of lips, kissing hard enough that Benny can feel the way Dean’s flesh nearly gives against his own unyielding skin. Clean and fresh and warm, Dean is almost overwhelming, pushed into Benny’s space like this.

“Easy, chief,” the vampire murmurs, nudging Dean back just a bit, hand wrapped tightly around his biceps. Dean’s always fucked like he fights, but that’s not what Benny wants this time. Not here. 

Flipping them, Benny sandwiches Dean between him and the wall, catching his face with one hand while the other pins one wrist above their heads. The other immediately comes up to grasp at Benny’s shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric. 

“Shh, cher.” A brief brush of mouths, a gentle kiss - and Dean melts. He leans into Benny’s touch, lets himself be held in place, and that’s exactly what Benny is looking for. 

Dean pliantly goes along when Benny tugs him toward the bed, falling back onto the thick comforter as his knees hit the edge of the mattress. Benny’s never been more grateful for his speed, stripping off his clothes with a distinct lack of finesse that earns him a smirk. Regardless, hunger lights Dean’s eyes as they roam over the vampire’s body. 

Long legs spread to welcome Benny between them as he crawls up the bed, settling on his hands and knees over Dean. There’s a brief hitch of the hunter’s breath, a sudden harder  _thud_  of his heart as Dean registers that Benny has him pinned; that same heartbeat takes off in a rush when the vampire rocks his hips, sliding their cocks together. Dean smells better, tastes better and Benny doesn’t know how he’s going to last with the taste of fresh salt on his tongue and Dean’s nails dragging down his back at the friction of their cocks. 

Dean must sense it, in that uncanny way he does, sucking two of Benny’s fingers into his mouth and slicking them with spit before nudging that hand down between his legs to the space beneath his balls. A small part of the vampire feels regret that their first time here is going to be as rough and hasty as every time they’d fucked in Purgatory, but neither of them had thought to grab lube from the convenience store or lotion from the bathroom. 

A soft grunt and crinkled brow clue Benny into the pain Dean feels when thick fingers push in; regardless, Dean starts fucking himself back on them, urging the prep along impatiently. 

“C’mon, Lafitte. Want you to fuck me,” he growls low, neck arching when Benny’s fingers strike his sweet spot. 

Wetting his cock as best he can, Benny thrusts in slow and steady, holding Dean’s hips in a tight grip to keep the man from moving. Vampiric hearing picks up on the little whine Dean’s trying to smother, and Benny holds out on thrusting for far longer than Dean wants him to. 

There’s a fight brewing in Dean’s expression before Benny takes his first thrust, watching it break apart in a rictus of pain and pleasure. A handful of strokes later, Dean is moaning loudly, back arched and his legs locked around Benny’s waist. 

“Fuck, fuck, that’s fuckin’- _Benny_.” 

Rolls of Dean’s hips and nails in his back drive him faster and deeper, the frame of the bed below them groaning dangerously under the force. Sneaking a hand between them, Benny jerks Dean in short, quick twists. Dean yanks back enough to slap his own hand over his mouth, muffling the scream that tears out of him, eyes going wide as he comes hard over his belly. 

Dean goes incredibly tight, and the orgasm is painfully good. Benny can feel the way his fangs sink into his own lip, and he sucks at the blood just to keep it from dripping down onto Dean while he pants. 

There’s a wince when Benny pulls out, but the only tang of blood in the room is his own. A wet cloth takes care of the mess, and then he’s slumping back down on the bed. 

“S’nice to not have to run,” Dean says softly after a while. He’s scooted closer, head resting on Benny’s bicep, trailing fingers through the tangle of chest hair. “Didn’t have this before.” 

Stretching his arm out, Benny moves to pull Dean to him, and is pleasantly surprised when the hunter doesn’t argue. Dean falls asleep, curled against his side, looking more relaxed than he ever did in Purgatory. 

‘Worth it,’ Benny thinks to himself, watching Dean sleep. ‘This is worth it.’ 


End file.
